


as if a second self

by annangst



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Depictions of physical abuse, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Some angst, i swear this is mostly soft, no spoilers for cdth, to be rated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-26 22:33:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21381679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annangst/pseuds/annangst
Summary: three times ronan says i love you and one time adam says it back
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 20
Kudos: 191





	1. the first time

The first time it happened, it took Adam completely by surprise.

It was one of the days between Christmas and New Year's — Adam honestly couldn't tell which one. He'd lost track of time completely ever since Christmas break began and he didn't have to scribble the date at the top right corner of the sheet of paper he used to write his notes on during Latin class.

It was a relief, honestly. Finally, Adam didn't have to pull his thoughts away from Ronan, Ronan, Ronan every five minutes to instead focus on whatever subject at hand.

Everything was so quiet; so still. Mornings started with late breakfasts turning into early lunches and ended with crappy movies playing on tv while nobody paid any attention to them. At night, they made a habit of sitting on one of the barn's roof, fireflies swarming around their heads while they stared up at the stars.

The Barns had quickly made it to the list of Adam's favorite places. Granted, that list was short. It consisted of Cabeswater (which didn't exist anymore) and, well, the main barn at Singer's Falls.

It wasn't so much the Barns themselves with their cozy rooms and lovely roofs to spend warmer nights on, or all the food cooked from fresh vegetables from dream plants that grew all year round, or the collection of knick-knacks on the shelves that Adam loved every single useless piece of, but Ronan. This was Ronan's home and Ronan had become Adam's home.

Over the past weeks, Adam had become gradually happier and happier. Even though most times, he still woke up on his mattress above St. Agnes church (it really was better to spend the nights away from Ronan during school time, otherwise there would be no studying happening — ever), feeling paralyzed for a moment of guilt because he turned on his family; of shame because now that Cabeswater was no longer, he was nothing more than Adam Parrish with the second-hand school uniform; of knowing that for everything he wanted, he would have to work twice as hard, there was always this little sun burning just left off center in his chest. It warmed the doubt that being happy meant only for everything to crash down again at one point away.

Now, Adam felt warm.

Now, Adam was stretched out on the couch in the living room of the main barn he'd fallen asleep on after lunch. He'd done nothing but eat today, and it felt great. He felt great.

Except he didn't.

The warm feeling he thought originated from the content feeling in his chest turned out to be the heat coming from the fireplace as well as the person lying behind him with their arms wrapped tightly around him. Yes, it was cozily warm at first, but soon after appreciating that, there were beads of sweat forming on Adam's forehead and he wished for a window to be open.

Ronan's breath was hot against his neck, not really helping the situation. Adam tried to bring distance between them, but he didn't want to wake Ronan up. Ronan definitely slept more than usual nowadays, but he still had long, insomniac nights that he usually spent tinkering around the Barns or on the phone with Gansey. So instead, Adam started wiggling his feet, attempting to strip his socks off without using his hands. It was more difficult than expected.

"What the fuck're you doing, Parrish?" Ronan's voice was muffled against Adam's neck. Automatically — he _always_ did this when he sensed the danger of Adam moving away from him — he wrapped his arms tighter around Adam's torso, refusing to let go. The first moments after waking up were always his most vulnerable. That was when he didn't yet have time to build his walls up for the day.

"I'm warm," Adam whined because slowly but surely, he felt like he was melting — and not in the good way like when he sat on the kitchen counter and watched Ronan, usually without a shirt on, fry bacon and eggs in the pan for breakfast, eyebrows furrowed as if it took all his concentration.

"Mhm," Ronan made, still muffled, "You could always take your shirt off, you know."

Adam made a _pff_ sound. "Unfortunately, I can _not_, as I have _someone's_ chest glued to my back."

Adam felt Ronan's hands slide all the way down his chest and over his stomach. Despite the heat in the room, he felt goosebumps creeping up his arms. He stilled against Ronan's chest, _waiting_. Waiting for him to skim his hands under the hem of his shirt, waiting for another snarky remark before lips found one another.

Nothing of that.

But a push.

Adam didn't have time to react or catch up on what was happening because it was happening way too fast. First, Ronan's arms around him loosened up completely, then one of his hands disappeared from where it was traveling toward less innocent regions, and then —

And then he pushed Adam off the couch. With a fucking chuckle.

If Adam hadn't been pushed and shoved his whole entire life, he'd probably hit the ground with his face instead of reflexively jutting his arms out and catching himself — more or less. He still landed with an inelegant _thump_.

"Bastard!"

Ronan's chuckle evolved into a full on barking laugh.

"Asshole," Adam muttered but couldn't help the quirk of his mouth. He scrambled to get up, but was shut down almost immediately by Ronan rolling off the sofa as well. He did a far better job at catching himself — probably because _he_ wasn't caught off guard — and now sort of hovered over Adam in a pose resembling a finished push up.

"Say that again, will you," Ronan said close to his ear.

Adam's eyes fluttered shut and his mouth finally formed a smile; the seeable equivalent of the sun shining so bright in his chest. "You're an asshole, Lynch."

Ronan started pinching his sides.

There was a lot of scrambling and more playful shoving and wrestling on the ground. Adam pulled Ronan out of his plank and managed to roll him over, so now they were both laying on the wooden floor. They were both laughing, _giggling_. It was ridiculous.

Eventually, Adam hitched a leg up and pushed all of his weight against Ronan, so he rolled onto his back and Adam straddled his hips. For a moment, Adam saw the surprise in Ronan's eyes. He was always taken aback at how physically strong Adam could be when the situation called for it.

Adam liked that look of surprise.

He liked it a lot.

So he decided to do him one better.

In a quick, swift motion, Adam grabbed Ronan's wrists and pinned them to the ground above his head. It was very easy. Mostly because Ronan didn't see it coming, but also because when he caught on, he didn't fight it.

Adam's face was now close to Ronan's.

Ronan, without breaking eye contact with Adam, wiggled his hands a couple of times. Adam knew he could do better; Adam knew Ronan liked this.

Nonetheless, Adam grinned. "I'm stronger than you."

"I wouldn't hold my breath for that," Ronan said before lifting his head up from the floor to capture Adam's lips in a kiss.

It was a strange paradox Adam couldn't seem to understand; how he felt so still around Ronan, but his heart was still thundering in his chest. He was at peace, felt safe, but simultaneously, he felt a strange thrill as if he was committing a sweet but dangerous crime. Adam didn't think he would ever figure out how that could be.

With the distraction of the kiss, Ronan wiggled his hands again, causing Adam's grip to loosen. He didn't do much more though because, again, Adam knew he actually liked it.

Adam felt Ronan's breathing hitch when he brushed one of his thumbs over the other boy's palm, down to the wrist. His fingers caught on the string of leather bands Ronan always wore.

Adam knew what they were hiding.

He skimmed his fingers over them, but then he felt a strange sort of urge. He broke the kiss and opened his eyes to watch his index and middle finger slipping underneath the bracelets.

Ronan held his breath.

Adam felt the raised skin of the scars. He knew they were there. He'd seen them before. He understood this about Ronan. He didn't expect for this to be the most intimate touch they would ever share, but yet it was.

Adam's fingers were still trapped against Ronan's wrist when he looked back down. Ronan's eyes were all pupils with a thin, bright blue ring around them. There was no surprise in them now, no bewilderment or uncertainty.

"I love you."

If Adam hadn't seen Ronan's lips form the words, he would have started and looked over his shoulder to see if someone had entered the room. But he _did_ see, and he _did_ hear, and there was no place for misunderstanding.

As his immediate reaction, a thousand thoughts came to mind at once, none of them fully formed.

Adam hadn't expected it. He hadn't even _thought_ about it. Which was probably stupid. He should have thought about it, he should have been freaking out about this ever since he noticed the looks Ronan gave him and the looks he was giving in return.

Truth was, Adam never expected to _ever_ hear these words. From _anyone_.

All of his life, he'd been called a burden, an unfortunance; had been told _no_, had been told _It's not gonna be you, Adam_; had been pushed, had been shoved, had been hit, hit, hit.

Ronan's lips were still slightly parted, that last word still lingering on them. _You. You, you, you. You, Adam._

Adam watched him swallow, watched him hold on to the certainty in his eyes, watched him _not_ regret the words.

Adam had never believed in being at a loss for words. He'd always trusted that if one had enough wits, there'd always be the right words at hand. But now there was a lump in his throat — or maybe it was just his heart — and he couldn't speak. Even if he wanted to, even if all his wits hadn't just spontaneously left him, he wouldn't be able to get any words out.

There was not a trace of disappointment on Ronan's face.

Of course, Adam's brain told him to look deeper into it, to doubt it, to dig until he found the hurt expression because he _physically wasn't able_ to say the words back. His brain instructed him to scramble back, get up from where he was sitting on top of Ronan, get out of the house and give Ronan a reason to finally wake up and realize that _it couldn't be him. It was never going to be him_.

Ronan shimmied his hands until they were free of Adam's.

Adam's stomach sank and sank and sank and his heart rose and rose and rose until it was pressing against the lump in his throat so hard, he felt like he was going to throw up.

Then Ronan's hands were on his face, pulling him closer. They were kissing again, and it was the warmth and familiarity of that kiss, and the harsh brush of the leather bracelets against Adam's jaw, that muffled the doubt.

Adam's heart pushed past the lump in his throat as he deepened the kiss. There was no space for words anymore, but he still tried to match Ronan's gesture. Adam didn't think he really believed Ronan, or at least, he didn't understand it. Why would anyone love Adam Parrish?

"I get it," Ronan spoke into his mouth. At first, Adam wasn't sure if he'd actually spoken or if it was another one of those instances where he could hear what Ronan wasn't saying. But he'd felt his lips forming the words.

_I get it_.

The words had flavor. They exploded with their meaning. Adam didn't have to look deeper into them to understand it. _I get it. I get _you._ I _know _you, Adam._

There was hesitation, of course there was, and Adam felt silly for it — Hadn't he been through enough with Ronan? Hadn't he been sure about all of this? — but he finally met Ronan's eyes again. They were still all pupil.

He _was_ sure about all this. There was no doubt about it.

"I know you," Ronan said, and those words felt almost as charged as the ones that first scared Adam. There was a pause, but not a long one, before Ronan added, "Like a second self."

Adam kissed him again.


	2. the second time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soft study session no one asked for but everyone desperately needs

The second time Ronan said the words, he didn't really say them.

Adam had anticipated that this would become A Thing. Yes, capitalized. He'd thought — _feared_, really — Ronan would start dropping the words on him again and again from the first time onwards, hoping at some point, he'd hit a score and Adam would cave and say them back.

Right after thinking that, Adam had bitten his tongue, hard, to make up for such nonsense. He _knew_ Ronan the same way Ronan knew him, knew he'd never do something like that. But his brain could be kind of shitty, sometimes.

Right now, it wasn't, though. Right now, it provided him every translation to every Latin word on the flashcards in front of him. Ronan read the word, or words, aloud in Latin, Adam answered with the English translation. After they made it through the stack, they'd start anew, roles switched.

It was the middle of March, a Friday night, and reading vocabulary from flashcards only to be interrupted by the correct translation halfway through the word did not seem like Ronan Lynch's definition of a weekend well spent.

It wasn't Adam's problem Ronan had decided to drop out of Aglionby and therefore had no grades to be worried about and then proceeded to find himself a boyfriend who very much cared about his grades.

"Okay," Ronan rolled onto his back, dropping the remaining flashcards onto his chest. Those were pink, marking they'd be the hardest. "What do I have to do to get you into bed with me?"

Adam, sitting on his shitty creaking desk chair, spun around to nudge Ronan's thigh with his naked foot. "Finish quizzing me on the vocab. Twice."

Ronan groaned. Then, all of a sudden, he fell silent. Thin lips pressed shut, forehead free of winkles.

Adam stared. He still didn't understand how anyone could be so beautiful.

Ronan took a long breath in.

"What the hell're you doing?"

"Dreaming up a replica of myself so _I_ don't have to deal with this shit."

This time, Adam's foot didn't nudge, it kicked. Hard.

Ronan's eyes flattered open. "Ouch. Asshole." He sounded quite unimpressed.

"You like Latin."

"Yes. But I don't like school. Why do you even give a shit?" He took the flashcards, placed them neatly beside himself, and rolled back onto his side. "You're the smartest person I know. You know all these words."

"That is correct." Adam pushed himself up from his desk chair only to directly fall onto the mattress in front of him. This apartment was very small. A shoebox, at best. He leaned forward into Ronan's space, "And you know why I know them? Because I _study_." He reached behind his boyfriend's back to retrieve the cards.

Adam lay down beside Ronan, on his stomach, staring down at the cards. He'd gone through them so many times, he even memorized their order. It took everything in him not to sigh out loud.

Suddenly, he felt a finger, a thumb, smooth over the spot between his eyebrows. It said a lot that he didn't flinch but instead leaned into Ronan's touch.

"You're gonna get into one college or another, you know."

"I haven't received a single letter yet."

"You're the smartest person I know."

Adam let go off the flashcards. He allowed Ronan to put an arm around him and pull him close. Adam nuzzled his face into the crook of Ronan’s neck and inhaled deeply. Ronan smelled like home.

Home was a strong word. For the longest time, to Adam, it had been a place. The trailer, St. Agnes church, Henrietta. A place he wanted to escape desperately. But then Ronan had stepped into his space for the first time, had hugged him for the first time, had kissed him for the first time, and suddenly, there had been this pleasantly heavy feeling settling in his chest that he’d never felt looking at the trailer he shared with his parents or his apartment above the church. _Home_.

In reality, Ronan smelled a bit like shit. Not literal shit, although that could very well be, regarding he lived on a farm with a heckload of cows that, well, shat. But no, he smelled like a day spent outside. Like leaves, like the sun, like sweat and cheap deodorant.

"I—" Adam’s voice gave up. They’d had this conversation so many times. College. Leaving Henrietta was almost within reach.

Leaving _home_.

And then coming back.

Adam felt Ronan’s fingers grazing the nape of his neck. He leaned back into it and looked up at his boyfriend’s face. Ronan had mastered the art of eye contact, no matter what kind of it — aggressive, passive-aggressive, bored, determined, seductive, he got them all. So of course Adam leaned in and pressed his lips against Ronan’s.

From time to time, he fell into these holes. Metaphorically. It would happen without warning, usually when he was very busy or _should be_ very busy. It sort of felt like when you were about to fall asleep and suddenly jerked back awake, the memory of Ronan saying the words and the horrible lump in his throat and his thoughts racing and racing and racing and panic. But there was clarity in these holes, too. It almost felt like little jerks of realization. He remembered the way Ronan’s voice bled with honesty when he told him he loved him and he believed it. He still didn’t understand _why_, but he trusted him, because he loved him, too. _Of course_ he did. Ronan was the best thing that ever happened to him. Ronan was the best, period. But after a life of ducking your head, of wanting to disappear, of being afraid to voice your thoughts and feelings because best case scenarios was a slap across the face, it was hard to just say it out loud.

Ronan let out a noise when Adam reached a hand up to cup his jaw. He’d been right, Adam found, trying to cram as much Latin vocab as possible into his head was definitely the wrong way to spend a Friday night.

Another lovely little noise when Adam’s thumb slid over Ronan’s bottom lip and into his mouth. They didn’t stop kissing. It was messy. It was a lot. It was Ronan pulling Adam on top of him. It was no shirts and jeans in a matter of seconds, no Latin flashcards, no talking. It was another kind of eye contact. It was heavy breathing and Adam’s shitty mattress that creaked with every move they made. It was mouths and lips that laughed and kissed, and hands and fingers that wandered and explored, everywhere.

After, Adam traced his fingers along the lines of Ronan’s tattoo. There were many of them, the art had no lack of intricate detail. Some days, Adam followed only the straight lines; other days, only the bold ones. Today, his index finger traced all the delicate details.

"You know," Ronan said and Adam could hear the smug grin that he surely wore on his face, "This thing was really worth the nine hundred dollars."

Adam traced a feather that twined all the way up to Ronan’s shoulder blade. "I see something new every time I look at it. Sometimes I think it’s changed since the time I looked at it last."

"Really? I don’t think it changes. Maybe you just haven’t looked at it enough so it still looks weird to you."

Adam shook is head even though Ronan couldn’t see it. "Trust me, I’ve looked at your backside many times."

The room was silent for a moment, then Ronan let out a snort, "Did you just tell me I have a cute butt, Parrish?"

"Oh, that wasn’t clear?" Adam sneaked his arm fully around Ronan’s torso now, pressing his body against him. "Although, cute isn’t exactly the word I’d use."

Ronan stilled against him. Adam lived for all those moments he managed to take Ronan by surprise. Then, Ronan shifted and shuffled until he’d turned around to lay face to face with Adam.

"You can’t just _say_ things like that."

"Why not?"

"Because we fucked, like, what, five minutes ago. I need a second."

Adam laughed. He laughed so much, it felt like his mouth stretched from ear to ear. And Ronan laughed, too, lifting Adam’s hand from his waist to lace their fingers together. Despite of what he’d said, Ronan leaned in again, kissing Adam. They were both still smiling, so it was less of a kiss and more of giggling into each other’s mouth.

However, it still ended with Adam pushing Ronan back onto his back so he could straddle his hips.

Before that could happen, though, Ronan flinched just before Adam leaned in for another kiss, this time with more internal smiles than external ones. Ronan shifted, lifting his torso halfway off the mattress to reach behind himself with one arm. He pulled free a pink flashcard. It was crinkled, the edge that must had been digging uncomfortable into his skin now halfway teared off.

Ronan looked at it for a moment, his eyes carefully following Adam’s handwriting. After a solid minute of somehow charged silence, his gaze flicked up to meet Adam’s. "Tamquam alter idem."

Adam swallowed. There was the lump in his throat again, almost like some sort of messed up coping mechanism that he _really_ did not need. He forced himself to not look away.

"As if a second self," he said. _I love you_ was what he meant. It almost felt tangible, all of a sudden, the tension in the room. There was only tension coming from his side, though, Ronan seemed to be feeling it, yes, but it didn’t originate from him. _I know you, Adam._

Ronan stared up at him and Adam was about ninety-nine percent sure he was able to read his mind. Adam kind of wished for it, if he was being honest. He wished there was a way to push past the lump in his throat.

"As if a second self," Ronan repeated, _I love you_ was what he meant.

Adam felt like throwing up. That he didn’t want to happen, so instead, he started vomiting words: "It’s actually a bit out of context, you see. It’s from a qu—"

Ronan’s hand was flat over his mouth. Again, it said a lot that Adam didn’t flinch.

"I swear to God," was all Ronan said before dropping his hand and instead pulling Adam in for another kiss, Latin flashcard again lost in the sheets within seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the kudos and lovely comments on the last chapter🥺🖤  
if you have a moment (and a tumblr account lmao) you can reblog this chapter [here](https://nightmare-hennessy.tumblr.com/post/189109623241/as-if-a-second-self)

**Author's Note:**

> say hi on tumblr [here](https://nightmare-hennessy.tumblr.com) 🖤


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